Owner of a Broken Heart
by raecat
Summary: One-shot following the end of WW2. Preparing for the Nuremberg Trials, the Allies want Germany to confirm the fate of his former leaders. Germany & America, no pair.


_One-shot following the end of WW2. Preparing for the Nuremberg Trials, the Allies want Germany to confirm the fate of his former leaders. _

_Warning: Probably not historically timeline accurate._

_Note: To see what Germany is talking about at the end, read my fic "These Walls as my Witness"_

**Owner of a Broken Heart**

Germany sat alone on one side of the large conference table, arms crossed as he glared at the four Nations opposite. England met his glare over the top of his hands, elbows resting on the table. To his right, America stared between the two, absently chewing his thumbnail. To his left, France was leaning on England's shoulder, still too tired to sit up properly. His hand, resting on the table, twitched. Beside France, Russia's mismatched expression watched him. The stupid, childish grin adorned his face, but his eyes were frozen with hate. Germany met the gaze and moved on. Although cautious, he did not fear him.

It was silent, neither party willing to be first to speak. Germany continued to wait, not caring how long the staring contest lasted. They had called the meeting, after all. Not him. He used this chance to look them over. America looked tired, but he was easily the healthiest in the room. Russia looked slightly worse for wear, but it was England and France who were the worst. The bombing raids on London had obviously done their work; the Brit was exhausted and wrapped in bandages. France was nearly broken, both in body and mind. The German occupation had taken its toll. He would recover in time, they all would.

Finally, England broke the silence after a nudge from France. "You know why we called you here."

Germany raised an eyebrow. Frankly, he had no idea.

"The trials will begin shortly and we want to make sure we have everyone and everything we need."

"I will not testify against my own people. You know I cannot." England's expression soured, but it was true. No Nation could not testify in court - it was one of their own rules.

"We want you to tell us who has escaped and where they are. And we want you to confirm whether or not your Boss is really dead."

"Release everyone from Soviet control." Germany mentally smirked at their shocked looks. They did not assume this was a negotiation, but what did he really have to loose at this point. He didn't have to tell them anything, and he certainly didn't care for those people one way or the other.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. Release them and I will answer any question you ask."

"You know that is not up for discussion. Now tell us were they are."

"Return Prussia to me."

"There is no more Prussia. You took care of that yourself, Allemagne." France's laugh wheezed out as Germany steeled his jaw.

"Return my brother to me."

"No. This is not a negotiation."

"Then I will tell you nothing."

"Then this meeting is over." England turned to help France stand, supporting the recovering Nation. Both ignored Germany.

"I will give your love to everyone when I get home, da?" Russia stood, smiling creepily. "Are you sure you don't want to become one?"

"Nein." Germany stood from his seat, hiding his aches as he did. He would not show weakness to them. Under his strong visage he was thin and heavily bandaged, but he was Germany. He would stand strong.

America was the last to stand, stretching lazily. He smiled, "I'll escort him back. Y'all can go."

Russia held the door for England and France, then followed them from the room. America and Germany could hear England nagging America's English, followed by a weak chuckle from France. The door shut, leaving the two alone.

America gave him a once-over. "How are you holdin' up?"

"I will recover."

The other nodded, remaining in thoughtful silence as they left the room. "You knew it wouldn't work. Why did you ask?"

Germany was quiet as they traversed the halls. He had to make the other understand. "Alfred. Canada is your brother, correct?"

America turned, curiosity peaked by the use of his personal name. "Yeah, we're twins,"

"How did it feel when you were separated and he was raised by France?"

The response was automatic. "Lonely. I didn't understand when I was younger, but we're connected. It was... wrong, I guess, to be away from him. But when he came to live with Arthur and me, everything was better."

"And if he was sick, you would want to take care of him."

"Of course!" His claims of heroism were left out; this wasn't the time.

"Even if it was your fault?"

America's gaze was serious. "Ludwig, I invaded him in 1812 to try to make him part of the US. I know how you feel."

"But you were unsuccessful, and everything worked out fine. But imagine if you had succeeded, and he was living a half-life. Imagine he suffered the ravages of loosing a war and the hell of the camps. Imagine he was ripped away from you and given to that insane collector of Nations. Imagine you would probably never see him again."

Germany was unsure when in his rant they had stopped walking. He stood in the deserted hall, hand over his face, trying to gather himself. America stood to the side, wanting to help and knowing there was nothing he could do.

"You have to understand, I had to try. Not only is Prussia my brother, but he is my father-figure as well. For you, it would be as if both Canada and England were ripped from you. I have no one left. Prussia is gone. Japan has been hospitalized. Italy is banned from my presence. My allies are in Russia's control. The only ones left are my captors. I have nothing left to loose by not answering their questions and everything to gain. I am truly alone now."

America rested his hand on Germany's shaking shoulder. "Ludwig, I know it means nothing but I want you to know. This whole thing doesn't sit well with me, never has. Maybe I understand better, but I don't agree with separating you two, and I don't like the idea of anyone being left in Russia's tender care."

"You had to agree for us to get to this point."

"No, my _Boss _had to agree. I'm sure you know what it's like, not agreeing with one's boss." America's smirk was both teasing and grim, but Germany managed to return it. "I feel like we did wrong, and I mean to fix it, no matter how long it takes."

Germany squeezed America's hand, still attached to his shoulder. "Thank you, my friend."

"Think nothing of it. After all, I am the Hero!" America's dazzling smile didn't reach his eyes, but Germany knew he was trying to cheer him up, even just a little. They continued down the hall in silence until they reached Germany's cell.

America held the door open, prepared the lock it behind him. He tilted his head in confusion when Germany stopped in the doorway. "Ludwig?"

"Others have escaped, but my Boss is dead."

"Hitler's dead? You're sure?"

"I am sure. I committed the ultimate sin to make sure." Germany drew a breath and squared his shoulders. "I am the one that killed him."

America's eyes widened. No Nation had ever killed their own Boss... but no Boss had ever been like that man either. He gently pushed Germany into his cell and shut the door. His voice was quiet when he finally responded.

"He stopped being your Boss when he started killing your people. You did the right thing."

The key turning in the lock seemed loud in both their ears. America walked away, his voice floating back to Germany.

"I would have done the same."


End file.
